Fevered Flame Alchemist
by D1g1m0ncrazy
Summary: Roy Mustang is a strong, intelligent, if not occasionally arrogant commanding officer... but what happens when he falls ill? Will the rest of team Mustang step up to lend him a hand? Contains minor OC appearances. Possible hints of implied Royai if you squint, but otherwise no pairings involved. Rated T because I'm paranoid.
1. Thunder and Lightning

It was after the midnight hour. East city was blanketed in the deep darkness of night. That was, save for a dimly lit lamppost that illuminated a daunting figure. Hateful red eyes gleamed, framed by an x-shaped scar. The imminent threat took a stance.

Pulling on his pyrotex gloves, Roy Mustang met the venomous glare head on. He'd have to make quick work of this one. After all, his opponent was well known as the 'alchemist killer.'

Without warning, the serial killer charged him.

"_Too slow._" Roy thought confidently to himself, snapping his fingers with gusto.

The spark ignited and flames enclosed upon their target, burning mercilessly. The flame alchemist smirked, "_That was far too easy._"

However, as the fire died down, his eyes widened. For it was not a corpse before him. In fact, the Ishvalan was completely unscathed. Roy rapidly felt his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. Scar lunged for him once more; hurriedly he snapped his fingers.

_KEEEEeeew!_

Thunder clapped overhead as lightning lit up the sky, all at once rain began to pour down in a torrent.

Roy blanched, "Hawkeye, I could use some back-up about now…" A strong hand clasped over his face and his pupils dilated further.

The murderer spoke calmly, "Now you shall receive judgment." His tattooed arm began to glow as he used his infamous deconstructive alchemy.

The colonel grit his teeth as pain washed through his entire being- it was almost as if he were on fire. What an incredibly ironic way to feel before death, he decided. "_Lieutenant… why didn't you have my back?_" he thought painfully.

"I'm sorry, colonel… but you're useless in the rain." Riza's voice echoed from somewhere outside his vision.

"That's what you get for trying to take on the 'alchemist killer' alone, Colonel hard-head!" Edward Elric's all too cheery voice chipped in.

"_Why… Why are both of you mocking me?_" Roy thought helplessly, "GAAAAAaaaah!" he gasped as the waves of pain intensified. This really was the end.

"_Colonel_?"

He blinked rapidly in confusion. That sounded like his lieutenant's voice, but she wasn't nearly as taunting this time... Suddenly his surroundings grew fuzzy, fading to black, "I think I'm done for, lieutenant." He confessed.

"Colonel Mustang, sir."

Onyx eyes flew open, darting around helplessly as Roy took a few, sudden gasps of air.

Hawkeye regarded her commanding officer. His messy black hair was matted to his forehead with sweat and his face flushed. Tired bags lurked beneath his half-crazed eyes and she felt just a little bit sorry for him. He really didn't look well. If it weren't for the fact that there were pressing matters at hand, she might have been tempted just to let him sleep.

The colonel managed to compose himself, clearing his throat in what he hoped was a dignified manner, "Ah, yes, lieutenant. I must have dozed off…" he murmured vaguely, a part of him quite frankly surprised she wasn't pointing a gun at his head, "Is something the matter?"

The blond woman promptly snapped into a salute, "Yes sir. We've received word that the Elric brothers are fighting in the street…"

"Is it Scar?" Roy inquired, cutting her off.

"No sir." Riza replied calmly, "It seems to be a wayward alchemist…"

He stood and began pulling on his dark overcoat as she spoke, "Any other details?" he pressed. He stole a glance out the window. The sky was cloudy. _Lovely_. He'd have to hope this didn't take too long to tie up. As things were, he had a pulsing headache and he didn't relish combining that with one of nature's 'showers'.

"They sighted her breaking into the estate that formerly belonged to Shou Tucker, sir. She seemingly escaped with some of his abandoned research materials." Lieutenant Hawkeye relayed.

"That can't be good." Roy murmured and turned to face his adjutant, "Come along, lieutenant."

Riza nodded, "I'll get the car, sir."

When her back was to him, Roy heaved a silent sigh, "_Here we go again. Well, I suppose I'll just have to show that little thief why they call me the Flame Alchemist._" The colonel followed his lieutenant out to the vehicle, slipping on a pair of his pyrotex gloves as he did so.

Hawkeye drove the vehicle with ease. It wasn't difficult to tell where the fight was going on, what with the commotion and destruction it caused.

Roy rested his head against the cool windowpane, knowing it wouldn't be long before they reached the battleground. An annoying feeling of lethargy had been hanging over him the entire morning; he promised himself he wouldn't let it interfere with his performance. He felt the car screech to a halt, "_Time to get to work._"

The first sight that greeted Mustang as he stepped out of the car was none other than that of one Edward Elric- slamming down onto the street. He looked a little worse for wear, a tell tale sign that the golden- haired kid had been taking a bit of a beating.

"Couldn't handle a little _thief_, Fullmetal?" Roy quipped, smirking slightly at the fallen boy.

"Who're you calling small?!" Edward snapped, pulling himself to his feet. "Took ya long enough to get here, Colonel. What were you doing? Sleeping?"

Before he could reply, there was a deep, rumbling sound as the ground shook and Alphonse was nearly hurled into the parked car.

"Oh, you silly boys!" A feminine voice giggled. The click of boots on the road said she was drawing closer.

"Al! You okay?" Ed asked the armored soul.

"I'm fine, brother." Alphonse reassured as he righted himself.

Roy studied the offender as she drew closer.

Short dark hair framed her face. She bore tattoos not only on both arms, Roy noted, but there seemed to be one on her left cheek as well. She appeared to be wearing earmuffs and gloves despite her otherwise relatively light attire… And she looked… young. Perhaps not as young as Edward, but she couldn't have been older than eighteen if he had to guess. Roy shook his head to clear it.

He snapped his fingers, letting the flames form just feet in front of her, "Give back the documents you stole or next time I won't miss."

This amused the girl, as she threw back her head and laughed, "Surely you don't mean that. Theft doesn't warrant the death penalty." She challenged. "And I'm sure you don't want to burn your precious papers."

"On the contrary, those papers are expendable." Roy said evenly. He glanced back at Edward, "I'll take over from here."

"Is that so? Well I don't believe you." The girl taunted, she flashed a grin and then stomped one of her boots. The ground rumbled loudly again and shook violently beneath them.

As his footing gave out to the unsteady ground, Roy caught a glimpse of the girl tearing down an alleyway. "Get back here!" he roared. Righting himself, he gave chase… He'd have to watch out for her earth alchemy.

"Colonel!" Edward growled in frustration as the flame alchemist pursued the thief.

Sadly, any words of warning were lost on the colonel in his pursuit of the troublesome girl. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could get back to HQ. Maybe he'd even get back before it could start raining. He doubted that, however, due to the churning of darkened clouds overhead.

He tailed the girl on her zigzagged path, following her out into another open street. She stopped abruptly and the colonel allowed himself to catch his breath from the chase, "Why… Why steal those papers in the first place?" he inquired, panting slightly.

The thief regarded him, cocking her head up in a slightly boastful manner, "It's nothing personal, colonel… I simply carry out the task I'm hired to."

Roy studied her, "Is that so? I don't suppose you'll tell me who you're working for." He glanced to her feet, "_She isn't drawing transmutation circles, so she must have them patterned on her boots._" He thought to himself.

"Sorry, but that's confidential." She smirked, "Surely you understand." She stomped her foot for emphasis, causing the ground beneath him to rumble and quake once more.

The colonel, however, squatted to maintain a sturdier balance. He snapped his fingers, bringing to life a wall of flames.

"Ha! You missed me by a mile! You really think you're going to frighten me with shots like those?" the thief called smugly. Though widespread, the fire didn't even come close to touching her. If anything, it obscured her view of the flame alchemist. Too late her eyes widened in realization.

"I'd say they hit their mark." Roy said calmly from behind her, restraining her as he hefted her just slightly off the ground.

"Let me go!" the thief grit her teeth, squirming against his grip.

"Not a chance. If you don't touch the ground, I'd say your earth alchemy is fairly useless. You do have transmutation circles on your boots, do you not?" Roy couldn't help but smirk. This girl really was a novice…

Suddenly the girl stopped squirming and broke into a fit of giggles.

The colonel blinked in confusion, grip loosening slightly. Why would this girl be _laughing_? "What's so funny?" he asked guardedly.

The girl managed to suppress another wave of giggles, "_Earth_ alchemy? Is that what you thought I was using?" she wriggled her arms free, flashing her gloves in his face. For the first time, he noticed a design stitched into them… much like the design of his own gloves, but this transmutation circle was _different_.

She smirked, taking advantage of her opponent's brief confusion, "Perhaps this will clear things up; I go by the codename 'Echo'."

Before Mustang could react, she clapped her hands loudly mere inches from his face.

A sharp, echoing pain pierced through his skull, forcing him to let go of his captive as he crumpled to the ground. Eyes clamped shut, he buried his fingers deeply into his black hair, clutching his head, "_Gaaaah….It feels like my brain is splitting in two!_" he cried out mentally, temporarily losing the strength to speak.

Echo stood a few feet away, looking rather pleased with herself.

Roy squinted his eyes open, willing himself to let go of his head. Until Lieutenant Hawkeye caught up to him, he had to try and stop the thief on his own accord. He didn't have time to stay on the ground. Still, the pain ringing through his skull was so intense he found himself seeing double.

"You're lucky; I went easy on you." Echo was saying, "Sound- based alchemy used at that range can be lethal."

"Sound… alchemy?" Roy murmured dumbly, staggering to his feet.

"Stomping. Clapping." The girl shrugged, "Where there is life, there is sound. As long as there are sound waves travelling through the air, I can alter them to a variety of frequencies… Some quite painful, I'm sure you noticed."

Roy had heard enough, he snapped his fingers, sending flames leaping a mere foot to the right of her. He was angry with himself for letting his guard down and furthermore, angry that he'd allowed himself to jump to conclusions in the first place. He was more calculated than this! The mistake, it was so incredibly juvenile… He bared his teeth. And now because of his careless assumption, he could hardly think or see straight.

"Hey!" Echo exclaimed, feeling the heat of the flames, "Are you forgetting I have the research papers?!" she pulled the folded documents from her pants pocket, waving them about like some sort of trophy.

He snapped again, fire consuming the papers in her hand greedily.

With a yelp the thief dropped the burning papers, looking to the colonel in astonishment.

"…I told you." He managed a slight smirk, "Those papers are expendable."

"Why you-!" Echo raged. She stomped, sending the already unsteady colonel to the ground as her sound transmutation shook the road he stood on.

Dragging himself up, Mustang suddenly took note of the increasing wind. A droplet of cold water met his cheek and he frowned. Just when he was having such a _wonderful_ day…. The storm had arrived.

The rain picked up quickly, pouring down with a vengeance and dousing the burnt remains of Shou Tucker's notes.

"Why?" the thief asked glaring, "Why go to all this trouble to follow me just to destroy the notes?!"

Roy did his best to keep a strong front. This girl didn't need to know his alchemy was effectively useless now that his gloves, and he for that matter, were becoming completely soaked. "I think that reason is fairly obvious. Some things are better off destroyed than brought into the hands of the wrong person." He said coolly.

He could see movement out of the corner of his eye. If the blond locks and blue colors were any indication, it seemed like Riza had finally showed up.

"Good to see you could make it, Lieutenant." Mustang called over the driving rain, grimacing as his own voice felt entirely too loud for his head.

Echo eyed the woman with distaste, but didn't move.

"Sorry it took so long, sir." Riza apologized, gun trained on the thief, "The Elric brothers filled me in on something you might find useful. They think this girl is somehow manipulating sound waves through alchemy."

"Tell me something I don't know, Lieutenant." Roy replied, a certain sourness to his tone.

Before Hawkeye could contemplate his words, lightning lit up the sky and thunder crashed simultaneously.

The thief saw her escape. Clapping her hands and harnessing the thunder's sound waves, she managed to transmute a horrible, deafening frequency.

The colonel and his lieutenant both temporarily handicapped by the assault, Echo fled empty- handed. She silently cursed the colonel for outclassing her and ruining the heist.

**Author's Note:**

**Hello Everyone! I guess this proves I didn't fall off the face of the planet, huh? Sorry for the slow updates with 'Face It, We're Family,' I've hit a bit of writer's block with that story. Not to worry, however, I haven't given up on it and will have chapter 4 up… eventually. Thank you all for your patience with me. In the mean time, I've been inspired to torture everyone's favorite flame alchemist, Roy Mustang! I'd like to dedicate these first few chapters to my awesome readers who've stuck with me despite my lack of updates! You guys are awesome. **

**In reference to this fic- Yes, Echo is my Oc. As far as I've planned, she won't appear further in this fic, save for in passing mention (Due to the above incident). Also: Sound based alchemy, as far as I know, is my own idea. The idea of transmuting soundwaves into other frequencies sounded like a feasible type of alchemy. *shrugs* Probably not as 'solid' as I think. At any rate, the idea is that sound alchemy is practiced by a select few and is often mistaken for earth alchemy, explaining why Roy had never heard of it.**

**This fanfiction is set in the Brotherhood/ manga universe to take place prior to Hughes's death, but after Scar's reveal. At least, that was what I had in mind whilst typing. I hope all of you enjoy this fic and rest assured, Mustang's condition will worsen during the next chapter. *cackles* Gosh, I'm so evil.**

**Reviews make me happy! See you all in Chapter 2!**


	2. Blame the Rain

Riza recovered first. She massaged her temples briefly, holstering her gun, "It would appear she got away, sir." She stated, glancing to her commanding officer.

Mustang was on his knees, clutching his head painfully.

Hawkeye blinked, "Sir? Are you alright?"

Between the howling wind and the intense throbbing in his cranium, Roy barely heard her. Still, he forced himself to straighten, a shiver creeping down his spine in the effort, "I'm…fine, Lieutenant." He spoke slowly, "At…any rate…" he paused to shudder, "She... didn't get away…with the notes." He swayed dangerously as he stood, prompting Hawkeye to steady him without second thought.

His obsidian eyes met her caramel ones with a dazed stare, causing the lieutenant to frown. "Sir?"

"Forgive me…Lieutenant." He murmured; his voice almost lost in the rain, "I'm a bit… lightheaded."

Riza felt a stab of unease at his reply, but pushed it aside. "If you can wait here a moment, sir, then I'll bring the car around." She spoke stoically as ever.

"Nngh." Roy grunted, hands reaching up once more to cradle his aching head, "…What of the Elric brothers?" he asked, almost inaudibly.

Riza, who had started off, glanced over her shoulder at him. Despite the storm fairly drowning him out, she was fairly certain of what he'd asked, "They've headed back to the Eastern Command building, sir."

"Very good, Lieutenant." He shivered slightly, "Carry on then..."

Hawkeye nodded to the colonel and picked up her pace as she once more turned her back to him. He'd seemed out of sorts all morning, but now it seemed fairly obvious to the lieutenant that her commanding officer was not doing well. She had no intention of making him wait out in the rain any longer than he had to.

As she disappeared from his sight, Roy crouched tiredly in an effort not to let his dizziness get the better of him. The pain in his head pounded mercilessly in time with the driving rain as chills continued to course through his being. "_To hell with this weather._" He thought miserably.

The only thing that seemed to dull the pain minutely was a feeling of overall weariness.

Suddenly, a car caught the corner of Mustang's vision and he glanced up. Hawkeye was stepping out of the car and walking towards him. She looked down on him with what seemed to be a hint of compassion in her eyes, "Will you be needing a hand, sir?"

He stared up at her a moment, wondering if he'd heard her right. Her tone was professional as ever, but her words suggested that she was _concerned_ about him. "I'll be fine, Lieutenant." He did his best to assure her, standing slowly. While her support was appreciated, he still had his pride.

Riza eyed the colonel as he took a few staggering steps over to the car. Pulling the rear passenger's side door open, he eased himself down onto the empty back seat.

The lieutenant nodded to herself and went around to the driver's side, letting herself in. The engine still running, she grasped the steering wheel...

"Heh…Heh…._HHHppt'CHUuu_!"

The noise from the back seat caught Riza off guard and she cast a glanced back at her commanding officer, "Gesundheit, sir."

The colonel sniffled in response, perhaps not entirely willing to own up to his own sneeze. Instead, he rubbed his temples, willing his horrid headache to go away.

Realizing he was pointedly not responding, the lieutenant turned the car around and drove for their headquarters.

"_I feel tired enough to sleep for weeks._" Roy thought to himself exhaustedly. He did not relish the idea of filling out a report on this incident. In fact, in his current state, the very thought of work made him feel woozy. His thoughts were interrupted by yet another shiver climbing up his spine. Subconsciously, the drenched man clutched his overcoat more tightly around himself in hopes of finding some warmth.

Though keenly aware of her superior's suffering, Hawkeye remained silent. Although he'd openly admitted his dizziness, he seemed completely unwilling to own up to anything further. That being the case, she would entertain his little charade for the time being.

"Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir?" Riza inquired, eyes on the road.

"Y-You should ch-change into something dry b-b-back-" The way Roy stammered, Hawkeye could tell he was struggling to get out his words. Therefore, she wasn't terribly surprised when she heard his breathing hitch.

"Heh…_Huuuk'tCHUUUu_! _Hhpt'CHUuu_!" He sneezed twice this time and did his best to muffle a groan. His nose's sudden desire to misbehave was incredibly disagreeable with his pounding head. He sniffled quietly and attempted to ignore the urge to cough that was quickly welling in his chest.

"What was that, sir?" Riza asked calmly, they were nearing the command center now.

"Hm?" For a brief moment Roy thought she was mocking him, but then realized she was inquiring as to his previous sentence, "Oh…um…" his brain foggily tried to reassemble the remark, "…You should change into something dry… back at headquarters…you don't want to get sick…" his words came flatly.

"_Oh. The irony._" Hawkeye shook her head to herself, "You might want to consider that as well, sir." She said instead.

Mustang frowned as a few coughs escaped him. He got the feeling she was just humoring him now, "…Lieutenant."

"We're here, sir." She interjected, pulling the vehicle up alongside the relatively large building.

"Hm…so we are." Roy replied shortly, glancing up at the familiar building. The colonel didn't relish stepping back out into the rain, even briefly, but there was nothing he could do about it. He opened the car door to let himself out. He stood a bit too quickly, he realized, as he was greeted with a fresh wave of dizziness. "Nngh." He grunted as he stood rooted to that spot, trying desperately to get his bearings.

"Sir?" Hawkeye inquired, though a slight edge to her tone seemed to be questioning if he was alright.

He clamped his eye shut, rubbing his temples.

"Sir?" she repeated, "Do you need anything?"

She watched his shoulders rise and tremble as he shivered. Still, he stood otherwise completely still. A sinking feeling was beginning to flood the lieutenant's mind when at last he spoke.

"I simply stood… a bit too quickly…Lieutenant," The colonel seemed like he was doing his best to select words that seemed natural. Sadly, his façade was broken by the slow fashion in which he spoke. He seemed to realize this, as he tacked on, "And I'm…well… just a bit tired… after dealing with that alchemist."

Riza had suspicions he was downplaying how he felt, but she was in no position to correct him. "I see, sir. Though we should probably get out of the rain."

"Yes," a muffled cough, "We most definitely should." Roy knew very well that the obvious was being stated, but he quite frankly didn't care. He had stood still long enough to overcome the worst of his dizziness and managed to find his stride. The colonel led his lieutenant into the building and out of the wretched weather.

Mustang didn't make eye contact with anyone as he made his way down the hall. While a change of clothes was desirable, he had a gut feeling Fullmetal was waiting around outside his office. "_Better take care of that first. If I'm lucky I won't have to deal with his mouth._" He thought to himself. Though to be honest, even if he didn't keep Ed waiting long, he was sure the young state alchemist would have some snide remark ready.

Lieutenant Hawkeye was mere paces behind him when they came upon the rest of his most trusted subordinates. They were performing their usual duties, but glanced up as their commander entered.

"Whoah. You got soaked clean through, Colonel." Havoc remarked, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lip.

"Yes…well it is raining out." Roy grumbled. His face contorted briefly.

The second lieutenant tilted his head, regarding his superior.

"Anyway, the Elric brothers are here to submit their reports on the incident." Breda put in, jerking a beefy finger at the brothers who had been waiting in front of Roy's office.

Roy wanted to roll his eyes, but decided that it wasn't really worth the effort, "I see. Th-thank…" he paused, mentally cursing as he battled the insane itching that was torturing his nostrils.

Breda glanced to Havoc who simply shrugged.

Falman and Furey glanced at one another.

It had been the general gossip that morning that the colonel wasn't feeling himself. The team had been speculating their leader was ill and they seemed to wordlessly come to the conclusion that being out in the storm had only caused his condition to worsen.

"Th-Th-Th-" Roy tried desperately to finish his sentence, but his nose had other things planned. "Heh…Hhpt'CHUUUuuu!" He managed to sneeze into the crook of his arm, but it really was a small victory.

"Gesundheit, sir!" Furey chirped without too much thought.

Mustang fixed him with a glare and walked on past his subordinates towards his office.

"Shall I get some tea, sir?" Riza asked; she had the feeling he'd be talking to the Elrics for a while.

"No, Lieutenant. Go get changed into something dry." His words were tired, but firm. "Come along, Fullmetal." He tacked on; addressing the golden haired teen as he brushed passed him on the way inside his office.

"Hmph. Come on, Al." Ed muttered as he and his brother joined the colonel.

After changing into some spare military fatigues in the locker room, Hawkeye decided to go ahead and fix the colonel a cup of tea. It wasn't as though he'd _ordered_ her not to; he'd simply told her to go and get changed into something dry. She allowed herself a small sigh; she wondered if she could persuade him to go home early this evening.

By the time the tea was ready, Riza's mind wandered to what scene she might find upon entering her superior's office. It was probable Edward would be seething over a subtle insult about his stature. On the other hand, a part of her wondered if Mustang was really in the mood for banter now. If nothing else, rainy days typically made him disagreeable.

As she approached the office with the cup in hand, the rest of team Mustang eyed her. Though if they had any comments; they chose not to speak them into existence. She rapped at the door with her free hand. "Sir?"

"Come in…Lieutenant." The voice was weary and rough, but belonged to the colonel beyond the shadow of a doubt.

"Yes sir." Riza let herself into the office. She headed straight for his desk, noticing in her peripheral that Edward was actually working diligently on a report… at least for the moment. She set the tea cup on the edge of the colonel's desk with a gentle 'klak'.

Mustang blinked and glanced up at her, causing her to grimace inwardly. His ebony eyes were swollen and watery, almost making the dark bags beneath them more pronounced. His nose was now pink with agitation, a tell tale sign that he'd been sneezing and rubbing at it frequently in the short span of her absence. Combined with the flush of his face and his mildly glassy expression, it wasn't hard to conclude he was most probably running a fever. She faintly wondered if all this had something to do with Edward's seemingly silent cooperation.

"What's this…Lieutenant?" came Roy's gravelly inquiry. His breathing hitched as he subconsciously shivered.

"Tea, sir." Hawkeye replied calmly, "I thought it might help warm you up, sir."

Roy eyed his lieutenant a moment, but let his gaze drop down to the cup. Something warm to drink _did_ sound pretty good, and his throat _was_ feeling raw. "Thank you, Lieutenant." He murmured, grasping the teacup in his fingers.

He sipped at the warm concoction, letting the steam fill his nostrils. "Ahhhh…" he sighed contentedly, taking another sip.

"Almost done with the report, Colonel…" Ed trailed off, trying desperately not to insult the sick man. It's not like he _cared_ if that _idiot,_ Mustang, got sick from running around in the rain. Really, he _didn't_, or so he told himself. Though he had the feeling Lieutenant Hawkeye cared far more than he did and might be so inclined to put a bullet through his temple if she felt he was being a nuisance to the colonel.

Alphonse glanced at his brother wordlessly, pleased that he was managing to control himself.

A cough from Mustang shattered the momentary pause, "Good."

Riza glanced to the colonel's desk; it appeared he hadn't even started on his own report on the incident. She wasn't surprised.

A few moments later, Ed stood from his place on the sofa and walked briskly over to the desk. "All finished." He stated, extending the papers in his automail hand.

The flame alchemist held out his own hand to receive the papers; his mouth opened as if to say something. Suddenly, his face contorted.

Ed frowned and snapped the papers away from the colonel in just the nick of time.

"Hehh…Hhhpt'CHUU! Huukt'chUU! Hhpt'CHUUUUU!" Mustang lurched forward, sneezing three times in succession. He'd barely managed to contain the spray with his gloved hands.

"Bless you, sir." Hawkeye said calmly.

Roy only sniffled miserably in response, rubbing idly at his nose.

Ed looked mildly disgusted, "Here." he plopped the papers down in front of the colonel, "I'm not sticking around to catch your cold."

"Brother, be nice." Alphonse frowned, or at least he would have had he a functional mouth.

"What? It's hard to believe he got sick from a little bit of rain." Edward mused.

"Fullbetal." Roy tried to sound threatening, but if anything his voice came out thick and pathetic.

The Fullmetal alchemist regarded the colonel and smirked slightly, "Yeah, yeah. We're going now. Come on, Al." he turned around, beckoning the living suit of armor to follow him out of the office.

**Author's Note:**

**And here we have chapter 2. I'm having entirely too much fun making Roy sneeze… somebody ought to stop me! *laughs* **

**Now some of you might say: "Cool fic, D1g1m0ncrazy, but you do KNOW rain itself doesn't get people sick. Besides, viruses take time to incubate."**

**True as that may be, the rain isn't what made him sick. As I alluded to in the first chapter, he was already unwell. The body heat he lost from being drenched/ cold along with his struggle against Echo caused his defenses to drop and his symptoms to become more prominent. Besides, some of you may be aware of a particular, common illness from this time of year that has a 'sudden onset'…. Perhaps I've said too much. *laughs nervously***

**Anyway, congested voice Roy equals fun. Expect more of it next chapter as the Mustang torture continues! I feel like I've got the characters down pretty well, but if any of you think I've written someone out of character, please let me know!**

**Reviews make me happy! I'll see you guys in chapter 3!**


	3. Surrender

Roy glared warily at Edward's back as he and Alphonse exited the office. He watched the door close behind them, as if he was waiting for them to be gone.

Hawkeye eyed him carefully, wondering what was running through her superior's mind.

All at once, the flame alchemist's harsh expression dissolved and he buried his gloved fingers in his hair, sighing deeply. The sudden release of breath didn't seem to agree with him and the colonel let loose a small series of coughs. Still, he made no motion to raise his head.

Riza blinked. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him quite so out of it. Or at the very least, it had certainly been a while. "Sir," she chose her words purposefully, trying to pose her concern for him as a logical suggestion, "Your clothing is still soaked. Perhaps you should consider changing into some spare fatigues to give them a chance to dry out."

Roy gave no initial indications he'd heard her. He only dug his fingers deeper into his hair and shuddered.

"Sir?" Hawkeye asked worriedly.

Finally, he peeked up at her,"…Maybe you're righd, Lieutedadt." He conceded, "Maybe gedding oud of these wed thi'gs will stob sedding shivers ub my spide." Another cough escaped his lips, as if punctuating his words.

"Yes sir." She replied, stone-faced.

He placed his hands flat on his desk, using the steady surface as a means of easing himself out of his command chair. A dull ache in his extremities complained as he stood. _Sleep_. His body was begging him desperately for it.

Roy shook the cloud of sleep from his mind, "_…I can't… Not here, not now._" He thought to himself, mustering some small reserves of stubbornness. Besides, he decided, he could feel Riza's eyes on him. He could almost see the question forming on her lips. Was she going to inquire as to his health?

He elected to put a stop to that before it could happen, "I shouldn't b-be…" Darn it all! That infernal itching was creeping into his nostrils again. He fought the impending urge as he struggled to speak, "l-long… I-I'll st-st-stard on th-that repord as s-s-ehhhhh…" his efforts not to sneeze were taking more effort than they had any right to. He rubbed a gloved finger under his nostrils, hoping to calm the imminent explosion. His eyes stung as they tried to remain open against the building force.

Hawkeye was watching her superior's struggle. It would have almost been amusing if she didn't feel sorry for him.

"…S-Sood as I g-g-get b-back…" Roy's breathing hitched once more as he at last managed to miraculously end his sentence. "Ehhh…ehhhhh." Eyes half-lidded, the colonel wordlessly cursed all the things he blamed for his current predicament- the wayward alchemist, the storm… it wasn't as if he'd woken up that morning feeling unwell, he lied to himself.

Riza watched his shoulders tense, frowning in a show of mild sympathy.

The sneeze didn't come, and for a few long moments the flame alchemist believed he'd managed to ward it off. With what he hoped was inaudible sigh, he plodded out of his office. The doors swung shut behind him as his subordinates simultaneously glanced up.

"_Darn._" Roy murmured to himself, "_Just make it past their prying eyes and you can relax. You can do it…Just act professional." _He coached himself.

"He looks sick as a dog." Havoc whispered to Breda, barely chancing a smirk when the colonel shot him a glare.

"Don't even get me started on those beasts…" Breda shuddered, "But I agree, he looks pretty out of it." He tacked on in a quieter tone.

"_Just_ _perfect._" Mustang thought sourly, "_They're so sure of themselves that they're not even bothering to gossip behind my back, but before my eyes.._." he sighed, resigning himself to the fact he'd really have to put on a show for them. He squared his shoulders and clasped his hands behind his back, moving forward in what he hoped was an authoritative manor, "Don't you men th-think…" He trailed off; his eyebrows quirked and his breathing hitched predictably.

The itching came back in an immense tingling wave. All his efforts were in vain. It seemed the pressure from the previous wave of suppressed sneezes had come back with a vengeance. But before poor Mustang could contemplate the wisdom of not withholding one's sneeze, he doubled forward into an intense fit of nasal explosions.

"Hhpt'CHU! Hhpt'CHU! Huuukt'CHUU! Hhhhpt'CHUUUU! HUPT'chuu! HUUUUKT'CHOOOOW!"

The last sneeze resounded through the room, sounding every bit as painful as it felt. Roy groaned miserably, hands groping blindly for his disobedient nose as his vision swam a little.

"Gesundheit, sir." Falman offered the prompt blessing.

"You okay, colonel?" the concerned voice belonged to Furey, there was no mistaking it.

The flame alchemist batted his eyes rapidly in order to clear the haze.

A handkerchief in the master sergeant's palm was extended towards him in a good natured gesture. The rest of his subordinates were all wearing expressions of varying concern. It would have been embarrassing, had he not currently been in desperate need of Furey's offering.

Wordlessly, the colonel took the cloth, blowing his nose heartily into the fabric. The small sense of relief caused him to sigh in a mixture of exhaustion and contentment. "Thank you…Furey." He murmured almost tonelessly, eyes closed against the sting of the lights.

"Maybe I'm crossing the line by saying this, sir, but if you ask me you should get home and to bed." Havoc ventured boldly.

"He's right, sir." Breda found himself enforcing, "Because you seem like you're struggling just to stay standing right now."

As the words sunk into his groggy mind, Roy's eyes snapped open. While the very idea of huddling into the warmth of his own bed seemed incredibly appealing, he couldn't admit to it… Admitting that would be admitting he was sick… Was he? He sure felt… No. He _couldn't _be sick.

He shot the two men an evil glare, "I- I'm not sick… I just… happened to get soaked in the storm… All I need is a change of clothes." He frowned inwardly at the pathetic, exhausted sound that was his voice. For a moment he was wondering who he was trying to convince more with his words: his men or himself.

The four subordinates all exchanged wordless gazes, before Havoc nodded smoothly, "Of course, chief. Forgive us for mentioning it." His words were so light and casual, almost as if nothing had happened.

Roy frowned, "_He's patronizing me… or else he's afraid of being court-martialed._" He thought accusingly. He sighed. To be honest, he found he really didn't care either way. He just wanted to get out of the room.

The four men watched the colonel disappear down the hall and then returned to their work stations.

Mustang shuffled down the hall wearily, hoping there would be no further obstacles on his quest for dry clothing. There were none. He managed to find some spare fatigues to change into and promptly found his way to the nearest stall to do just that.

The simple process seemed much more taxing in his current state. He fumbled for several long minutes, but finally managed the task. He bundled his wet garments under his arm, but a sudden dizzy spell causing him to lean heavily against the stall door.

Heat pulsated through his head and darkness danced in the corners of his vision. Roy closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath, "_No. No. No. You are NOT going to pass out here… Just breathe… The dizziness will pass."_

A cough rattled through the ill man's chest, but he focused solely on breathing. Slowly, he opened his eyes. The worst of the lightheadedness had faded, leaving him feeling unsteady, but in no immediate danger of losing consciousness. He began to trudge back up the hall, footsteps heavy and sluggish.

His subordinates stole glances at him as he entered the room, but he paid them no mind. He passed them wordlessly on the way into his personal office where he'd left the first lieutenant waiting. Halfheartedly, he lowered his uniform onto the office sofa.

Riza, no different from his other subordinates, stared intently in his direction. Roy, however, wasn't interested in what she thought at the moment. All that mattered was sitting down. He dropped exhaustedly into his command chair, head lolling back.

"Are you alright, sir?" the first lieutenant tried to mask the ever growing concern in her voice.

She earned a strangled groan in reply. Still, she waited, hoping he'd say something.

The seconds ticked on, and she began to wonder if he'd blacked out. However, before she could prove her theory his worn voice broke the silence.

"L-Lieutenant…" the flame alchemist spoke with his eyes closed, sounding almost drifty.

"Sir?" she waited for him to finish.

His breathing hitched and he lurched forward in his seat, "Hhhhpt'CHUUU! Hukt'CHUU!" He groaned, burying his face in his arms. He mumbled something into his sleeve.

Hawkeye strained to hear his words, but they were too muffled, "What was that, sir?"

A sniffle and he slowly raised his head, "I dod't… feel very well, lieutedadt." Roy clarified; his expression one of absolute misery.

Riza felt her stomach twist a little at his confession and found her palm extending towards his forehead almost instinctively, "Understandable, sir." She said as calmly as she could, "You seem to be sporting quite the fever."

Feeling so completely spent, the colonel couldn't even appreciate his adjutant's touch. He simply let his head fall back to his arms. He didn't know how this had swept over him so quickly. At this point though, he was too far gone to even try and puzzle it out. His body's pleas for sleep were beginning to sound infinitely more reasonable.

The first lieutenant was torn. There wasn't much she could do for him that wasn't considered breach of protocol. Then again, her duty was to see to it that he accomplished his work… and in his current state he surely didn't seem capable of getting much of anything done. "Sir, you should get down to sickbay." She stated. She decided not to give him the option of refusal.

She needn't have bothered with her firm manor, however. The combination of fever and fatigue seemed to have subdued Roy from the moment he'd given in to his symptoms. His eyes half-lidded, he gazed into the middle distance. The only indication the flame alchemist had even heard her at all was a slight "Mm."

Riza's eyebrows knit at the dull, wordlessness of his reply. "I'll be right back, colonel."

Roy blinked slowly. In reality, the meanings of most words were beginning to become lost on him through the haze of fever. His pride all but extinguished by exhaustion. It was hard to keep up a façade without the energy to put on the act. He was sick and he knew it. Strangely, that didn't trouble him as much as he'd recalled thinking it would. No. All that seemed to matter now was the notion of sleep…

Hawkeye hurried through the office doors and out to the rest of team Mustang.

"How's the chief?" Havoc asked mildly, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Not well, Lieutenant Havoc." She said coolly, "In fact, I'm going to escort him to the infirmary."

"And he's not resisting the idea?" Furey seemed completely shocked.

"No. He seems to be in a daze." Hawkeye replied, crossing her arms, "I advise all of you to prepare for a heavier workload in order to pick up the slack."

"Yes sir." Falman was the first to reply.

The others followed suit.

"Very well. Let's not let the colonel down, men." Riza said in closing, turning to head back into Roy's office to 'collect' him.

"Just a moment. When you say 'dazed'… How out of it is the colonel now?" Jean Havoc asked casually, leaning back in his chair.

Riza turned back to the second lieutenant, "Well he admitted to feeling ill and is presently resting his head in his arms." She stated calmly.

"In that case, he may not be coordinated enough to walk. You might need someone to help support his weight on the way down the hall." Havoc spoke in the same casual tone, though it was plain to see that he was offering his assistance as a concerned subordinate.

Hawkeye nodded in understanding, "Yes, Lieutenant Havoc. I might just need your assistance with the colonel."

Havoc put out his cigarette and stood, "Then let's get going." He said as he strode over to Riza. He followed her into the office

Roy appeared to have fallen asleep, or at the very least closed his eyes. He looked anything but peaceful, however. His eyebrows were furrowed in discomfort; his nose was a pinkish hue that nearly blended with the deep flush of his cheeks induced by fever.

Riza walked over to her commanding officer, "Colonel Mustang, sir." She addressed him.

He faintly heard her say his name… but he felt so tired… Maybe he could just ignore her...

Havoc crossed his arms as he watched wordlessly.

"Sir, we're taking you down to the infirmary now." Hawkeye spoke again, a bit louder as she set a hand on his left shoulder.

No… she was persistent. _Of course_. This _was_ Hawkeye. Roy licked at his lips and blinked open heavy eyelids, "Mm?" a low rumble uttered from his throat followed by a pair of coughs.

"We're going to take you down to the infirmary, sir. Can you stand?" Her voice was firm, but seemed to hold some degree of warmth.

Roy blinked sluggishly.

"Don't worry if you can't, chief. Just lean on me, alright?" Havoc added, offering a good natured smirk.

Slowly, he seemed to process their words as he rose from his chair unsteadily, "I… I thidk I cad... walk." He tried to shake the drowsiness from his mind, but it wouldn't clear. Having briefly allowed himself to relax had only caused the haze in his mind to thicken.

Havoc noticed the colonel stumble slightly and promptly slung his commanding officer's right arm over his own shoulder. "Easy there, chief. Why don't you let me give you a hand?"

"It will go faster if you cooperate, sir." Hawkeye put in.

"Mm…fide." Roy murmured, his mind too fever-muddled for him to truly care what was being said. In fact, he hardly seemed to register when they started moving forward. He discovered subconsciously along the way that he really was glad for Havoc's support. His legs felt heavy; it was all he could do to move them. Yes, if it weren't for the second lieutenant he probably would have fallen flat on his face in the middle of the hallway.

Riza kept an eye on Roy as they guided him along. He really did look awful. "_We're almost to sickbay._" She told herself, hoping the doctors would be able to at the very least give Roy something to bring down his fever.

**Author's Note:**

**Ah, hello again, dear readers. I almost made Roy pass out! =D I'm sure that somewhere, Mustang is slipping on his ignition gloves to barbecue me. *laughs* Don't worry, Roy. I only torture you because I love you so. At least I gave him his caring subordinates to help him feel better.**

**Anyway, Roy's temperature to be taken next chapter! I'm really tempted to list it in Fahrenheit. (I'm from the United States, so Fahrenheit has more immediate significance to me than Celsius.) Although it may be a bit of a stretch, did Hiromu Arakawa ever state what temperature unit they use in Amestris? (I know it's based off Germany, but if the unit was never officially stated I think it'd fair game…) Hmmm. Either way, I'll be sure to do a conversion to whichever unit I don't use to leave at the end of the next author's note. (That way, everyone can get an idea of what I'm driving at.) Hope you all are enjoying the fic so far!**

**Reviews are more than welcome! See you in Chapter 4!**


	4. Glass Thermometer

The nurse at the infirmary's front desk looked startled as the trio entered. Riza supposed she had every right to be. After all, it wasn't every day Colonel Mustang was more or less carried in as a patient.

"The colonel's not doing so well. Perhaps one of the doctors can have a look at him." Riza spoke calmly; breaking the nurse's stunned stupor.

"A-ah! Yes! Of course!" the nurse exclaimed, hurriedly snapping up a clipboard, "If you'll just follow me…" she trailed off, clearly still in a state of surprise as she led the way to a small room.

There was a medicine cabinet and modest desk lining the wall. A single cot sat in the middle of the room, clearly intended for patient use.

"I-if you wouldn't mind waiting here, sir..." the nurse spoke nervously, addressing the colonel.

Roy grunted and tried to straighten slightly, "Fide…I'll wait here." He murmured groggily.

Havoc took the cue to lower the flame alchemist onto the cot, "There you go, chief." He said mildly.

Roy shivered. He faintly wondered if Havoc's words warranted a reply. The small part of his brain that still seemed to be functioning through the haze of fever told him it did. Havoc had, after all, kept him steady on the trek down the hall. "Th-Thadk you…Havoc."

The second lieutenant smiled in spite of the dull, sickly sound of Roy's voice. "No problem, colonel."

"Er… I hate to interrupt, but-" the nurse began.

"I'll handle his paperwork." Riza stated calmly, "The colonel is incapable of thinking clearly at the moment."

"Oh! Alright. Thank you." The nurse unclipped some papers from her board and held them out to Riza.

As the first lieutenant expertly filled out the papers, her words slowly sunk into Roy's mind. Any other time they would have stung. The same way it stung to be called useless in the rain. This time, however, he felt just weary and feverish enough not to care. Besides, not having to do paperwork right now sounded pretty good to him. His eyelids fluttered. The notion of sleep once more struck him as tempting now that he was in a relaxed position.

"…Here you are." Mustang heard Hawkeye's voice echo as he drifted closer to sleep.

"Thank…" the nurse's tone faded out, his subconscious deeming it as unimportant.

His ears strained to pick up any other sound, but it all grew muffled as his fevered mind hovered on the brink of sleep.

Suddenly, an increasingly familiar tingling in his nose brought his senses back to life. He grimaced inwardly. Why wouldn't it leave him be?

"…think he's asleep?" he caught the tail end of a question- Havoc's.

Roy's breathing hitched, causing his first lieutenant to tilt her head slightly, "I'm not so sure."

"Heh…Hehhh… Hhhhpt'CHUUUU!" Roy bolted up into a sitting position with the blast, barely containing the sneeze into the crook of his arm.

"Gesundheit, sir." Havoc smiled sympathetically as Roy scrubbed at his nose.

"_Where did I put Furey's handkerchief_?" Roy wondered absently, sniffling wetly.

Riza procured a tissue box from the nearby desk and held it out to Roy, "Looks like you could use one, sir."

Mustang sniffled gratefully and plucked one of the tissues from the box, pressing it against his chafed nose. He emptied what he could from his bothered sinuses into the single tissue before reaching for another. Though offering only temporary relief, it seemed to clear just a bit of the fog from his mind. He satisfied himself with a final blow.

"Geez, colonel. How many tissues you gonna go through?" Havoc asked mildly.

Roy ignored him and instead slowly turned his gaze up to Hawkeye, "Thadk you, Lieutedadt…. Do you know… where the waste bid is?" It seemed he'd found enough decency to not want to sit around with used tissues in his lap.

Riza set the tissue box down and brought over a small, circular trash receptacle, "By the way, you're welcome, sir." She said in reference to his prior expression of gratitude.

Roy offered a wan smile as he dropped the tissues into the bin, but said no more.

Hawkeye returned the waste bin to its rightful spot just as a doctor walked in.

He was a rather plain man, clad in a white coat that proclaimed his profession. A stethoscope was draped around his neck and a clipboard was held firmly in his hand.

The colonel gazed at the doctor slowly, ebony eyes blinking sluggishly.

The man promptly snapped into a salute.

"At ease." Mustang sighed, coughing slightly into his hand.

The doctor relaxed, and glanced down at his clipboard, "Now I know what it says here, but just to clarify- what seems to be the problem, colonel?"

The flame alchemist rubbed his temples between his thumb and index finger, trying to find the words to explain exactly how he felt, "…I'b so tired…" he muttered almost inaudibly, "…And by head…it's killing be." He shuddered. Why was it so hard to think?

"Says here you've been experiencing periodic chills and bouts of dizziness…" the doctor tried to be helpful.

"He's also been fairly sneezing his head off." Havoc interjected.

"And coughing." Riza said calmly.

"…By arbs and legs feel heavy…and I albost passed oud after cha'ging clothes…" Roy found himself admitting, tongue loosed by fever. "I…I was so dizzy…" he recalled, continuing to massage his temples.

The doctor frowned, a simple action that did not go unnoticed by Havoc or Hawkeye. "Well then..." he set down his clipboard on the desk and reached into one of the medicine cabinets, "I'd better take your temperature, colonel." A frown still donned his face as he produced a thermometer.

Riza didn't like that expression when worn by anyone in the medical field; it made it feel like the doctor had passed the death sentence on his patient.

Roy lowered his hand from his head, tilting his head back slightly as he opened his mouth and lifted his tongue. As out of it as he felt, he knew what was coming when he saw a thermometer.

"Any guesses what he's down with?" Havoc asked casually, trying to clear the tension in the air.

The doctor slipped the glass thermometer under the colonel's tongue before adopting a thoughtful expression, "I'm not quite sure... I'll have to finish examining him first."

"It came up on him so fast too." Havoc continued mildly, as if he expected the doctor to divulge further information if he pressed. He reached for a packet of cigarettes in his pocket, but thought better of it when he met Hawkeye's glare.

"Yes, well, there are a lot of things going around this time of year."

Roy returned to massaging his temples, he couldn't be bothered with the conversation transpiring around him. All he wanted right now… all he craved… was sleep. His fevered mind cried inwardly at the realization that he would in fact be denied sleep a while longer.

"…thermometer…" he zoned back into the conversation long enough to hear the single word. Roy lifted his head slowly, blinking against the light.

The doctor plucked the mercury filled utensil from the flame alchemist's lips and studied where the red line stopped. He frowned once more, "Well… it's no wonder you needed some support getting here."

"What's it say?" Havoc asked, arching an eyebrow.

"The line stops between the thirty-nine and forty degree marks. I'd say he has a fever of roughly thirty- nine and a half degrees Celsius." The doctor stated, "Most people are disoriented with a fever like that."

"I thought he seemed quite warm." Riza commented calmly.

Havoc glanced back at his commanding officer.

Roy's eyebrows had quirked and his mouth hung half-way open, "Heh…"

"_Oh boy. Here it comes_." He thought, taking a step back.

"Hehhh… Hhpt'CHUUuu!" Roy sneezed into his hands, forgetting all decorum in favor of shielding the three other people from his spray. He sniffled and groaned.

"Gesundheit." The doctor replied reflexively.

Roy didn't reply; he simply stared down at his hands a long moment. Would it be _so_ bad to wipe the mucus away onto his pants? He wondered.

Riza seemed to read his mind and frowned in distaste. She quickly retrieved a pair of tissues from the box and held them out to the colonel, "One for your nose, one for your hands, sir."

Roy blinked slowly. How had she…? Oh, never mind. He carefully took the first tissue to wipe his hands and blew his nose into the second.

"If you don't mind, I'll take a listen to your breathing now." The doctor spoke up the moment Roy was through.

"Nngh…Okay." Roy murmured, doing his best to sit up a bit straighter. His arms trembled slightly in the effort and he shivered.

The doctor adjusted his stethoscope so he was wearing it properly and proceeded to take a listen to Roy's chest. He instructed him to breathe deeply and hold his breath alternatively as he worked.

The sudden extremes of the controlled breathing sent the flame alchemist into another coughing fit, causing tears to spring in his eyes.

The doctor pulled back, letting the stethoscope rest around his neck once more, "Hm." He returned to his clipboard, jotting down his findings.

Roy panted in an effort to regain his breath, staring lethargically at the wall.

The doctor proceeded to examine his throat and ears, trying to be as thorough as possible… even if he was fairly certain of the ailment that had befallen the colonel.

"So. What are we looking at?" Hawkeye asked the doctor, feeling almost impatient. The man seemed to have had his mind made up moments after he'd _seen_ Mustang.

Havoc too was growing impatient with the doctor. He'd crossed his arms and was tapping his elbow in an effort to keep himself from lighting a cigarette.

"It looks like he's come down with a case of influenza." The doctor stated, flexing his fingers in a mildly nervous fashion.

"Influenza?" Havoc felt sweat forming on the back of his neck. He'd heard tales of the influenza virus claiming more than a couple lives.

"Yes, well, it seems to be more common with this time of year…" the doctor trailed off, glancing at the colonel.

Roy seemed to only be half listening; his fever leading his mind elsewhere.

"How should we treat him?" Riza asked, following the doctor's gaze.

"Ah, well, we can treat the symptoms. I can give him some medicine to help bring down his fever and lessen his aches and pains…And he ought to drink plenty of water… Otherwise, rest and comfort measures should do him a world of good." The doctor spoke evenly and sighed, "In any case, the survival rate of influenza has been slowly improving over recent years. With rest he _should_ be fine." Truth be told, it was nerve-wracking playing doctor to a high ranking officer, especially when dealing with something like influenza.

Both Hawkeye and Havoc visibly relaxed a degree.

"Though he should make contact with as few people as possible…" the doctor wrung his wrists, not so subtly implying that Mustang should probably be quarantined.

"I see." Riza nodded, "In that case, I'll gather the paperwork he'll need to fill out for a leave of absence." She said calmly.

The doctor nodded, "A wise idea." He turned to Mustang, "Colonel?"

Roy looked up blearily after several long moments, "Mm?"

"I'll have the nurse bring you some medicine and water." The doctor spoke plainly.

"Mm…alrighd." Roy nodded slowly. He grimaced as his head punished him for the bobbing motion.

"Can the chief rest here a while?" Havoc inquired as he looked the colonel over, "I mean, he doesn't seem like he's in any state to drive at the moment."

"Yes… of course." The doctor nodded.

Roy would have been mildly annoyed by their discussing how to 'deal with him' were it not for the fact that the word 'rest' sounded more blessed than any other word he'd managed to catch since they'd gotten to the infirmary. Ah yes, _sleep_. His body had been crying desperately for it and his mind as well. How wonderful it would be to lay back and close his eyes for a little while…

"…get home?" Havoc was asking a question again, but Roy had missed the most of it.

"I'll drive him to his apartment after my shift." Riza replied easily, "That way I can assure he doesn't wind up in a car accident. Not to mention, it gives him a chance to rest a bit." She mused. 

"Ah, good idea. No point in being a bodyguard if you don't have a body to guard." Havoc smirked slightly.

Roy slowly put two and two together and came to the conclusion that Hawkeye would be driving him home later… he supposed he didn't mind.

"Get well soon, colonel." Havoc was saying, giving Roy's shoulder a pat before exiting the room.

"I'll be back in a bit with those forms, sir." Hawkeye addressed him, bending down so they were at eye level.

"…Forbs?" Roy questioned vacantly.

"Yes, colonel, for your leave of absence." Riza explained, quickly realizing that he'd been fading in and out of the conversation more frequently than she'd initially thought.

"Ah…righd…I knew that." He lied sluggishly, noticing the hints of concern in her brown eyes.

Hawkeye returned to her full height and saluted her superior, "Get some rest, sir. I'll return." With that she turned on her heel and stalked out of the infirmary.

Roy watched her a moment before his mind once more disjointed from coherent thought. He leaned back against the cot's pillow, eyelids fluttering as fevered dreams threatened to claim him. He wasn't sure when it was that the doctor left the room, nor did he care. Sleep seemed to be the only thing that was relevant. Nothing else seemed quite so pressing as the desire, no, the need to succumb to the awaiting arms of slumber.

Roy fell into a fitful doze before the nurse could so much as reenter the room.

**Author's Note:**

**So ends chapter four. Yes, this confirms it- Roy has the flu. *cuddles him* Now I know what some of you are thinking: 'Influenza? Deadly? What the heck?'**

**Though I ask you to consider the timeframe this series is set in. In the early 1900's influenza was a lot scarier than it is today. People did die from it a lot more often. And if my research is right, there was a Spanish flu pandemic in 1918 which claimed many. While I realize FMA is not a carbon copy of the real world, I just can't shake the feeling that people in Amestris during that time period would treat influenza as more of a threat than we tend to nowadays. Rest assured, I won't come close to killing Roy with it (That wouldn't fit into the canon at all and besides, I like him too much to kill him). **

**On another note, showing his temperature would be infinitely easier with an electronic thermometer, but it just wouldn't feel as time authentic. Blah… I've probably already mashed up several past concepts with those of modern day. Hope you can see past any inaccuracies and enjoy the story for what it's worth. *nervous laugh***

**Anyway, this is the last of the daily posted chapters. I will continue to update this fic, but it will probably be a bit slower. These day to day updates were holiday exclusive! *laughs lightly***

**On that note, Happy holidays to everyone and a Merry Christmas to all who celebrate (myself included)! =)**

**Reviews make me happy and I'll see you in chapter 5!**

**Footnote:**

**39.5 Degrees Celsius is roughly equivalent to 103.1 Degrees Fahrenheit. **


	5. Cleaning the Office

Three pairs of questioning eyes had greeted Havoc and Hawkeye as they rounded the corner into the room in which the rest of team Mustang worked.

Riza decided to leave the details of the infirmary visit to the second lieutenant. He was more than capable of explaining the matter. Furthermore, she had other things to take care of. She walked briskly past the men toward the colonel's office.

"So what happened?" Furey ventured to ask, adjusting his glasses.

"The doctor says the colonel's got a case of influenza." Havoc stated after a moment, crossing his arms.

Furey, Falman, and Breda all exchanged worried glances.

With a soft click, Riza shut Mustang's office doors behind her. She surveyed the room, deciding she probably ought to wipe down his desk in order to prevent the virus' spread. First, however, she had documents to deal with, particularly filing away Edward's report and locating the forms for the colonel's sick leave.

Neither task proved to be very difficult. Hawkeye knew from years of working with Mustang- or in this case, motivating him to complete his paperwork- where everything was filed. Now that Roy was most definitely not returning to work for at least a few days, she saw no harm in getting the report into its proper place.

The forms she was looking for were in a manila folder in his bottom desk drawer, fifteen folders from the front to be exact. She pulled a few pristine sheets from their resting place and looked them over, nodding to herself. Yes, these were the forms alright. She was sure of it.

She was about to set them aside on the small office table, when the colonel's uniform caught her eye. She'd have to remember to gather it and her own uniform up later before driving Mustang home. Both uniforms could do with a cleaning. However, his in particular could use a good wash. If not for the mud stains the rain had so graciously assisted in painting upon the blue fabric, then certainly for the germs that were without a doubt thriving on it.

The thought struck her that she might want to start washing her hands with increased frequency. She didn't want to catch the flu, after all. Furthermore, she might want to caution the rest of the colonel's subordinates to do the same… She shook her head, "_Really, Riza? You aren't their mother. They should have enough sense to wash their hands._" She berated herself.

She set the forms down on the table, less than a foot from where the colonel's uniform lay sloppily on the sofa. She resisted the urge to fold it presently, before leaving the office in search of some cleaning supplies. She figured she might as well wipe down the colonel's desk while she was thinking of it.

As she walked by the others once more, she caught bits of their conversation. They had returned to their work stations, but were still discussing their commander's misfortune.

"I sure hope the colonel will be alright." Furey said frowning.

"The colonel lived through the Ishvalan civil war; I think he can handle a little virus." Havoc attempted to comfort the younger man, taking a puff from a freshly lit cigarette.

"Yeah, like you're not worried about the colonel too." Breda stated flatly.

"The doctor said with rest and medicine he'd be fine, right?" Falman attempted, "Well then… I suppose he'll be just fine."

Hawkeye smiled slightly to herself as she continued down the hall, the rest of their conversation fading as she moved further away. There was just something slightly heartwarming about the way Mustang's men displayed their concern for him. She faintly wondered if the colonel truly knew just how much his men did care. She shrugged. That was something only Mustang himself could answer.

Locating a janitorial closet further down the hall, Riza procured a bucket and some cleaning rags she could use for her endeavor. Making a mental note to return the supplies when she was through, Riza stopped into the lavatory to fill the bucket with warm water and soap. Then, careful not to spill the contents, she carried the bucket back up the hall as she headed for Roy's office once more.

"What's the bucket for, Lieutenant Hawkeye?" Havoc felt compelled to ask as she walked by yet again.

Riza stopped in mid-stride, turning to face the other four.

Havoc was regarding her calmly, taking another drag from his cigarette whilst the others appeared to be working diligently… even if they were listening in.

"I'm going to wipe down the colonel's desk, and possibly a few other surfaces in his office." Riza explained easily, "We don't need anyone else getting sick due to the lingering germs."

"Ah. Good idea." The second lieutenant nodded approvingly, turning his attention back to his own work.

Riza nodded to Havoc and proceeded back inside Mustang's office to begin wiping things down.

She set the bucket on the floor by Roy's desk and plunged one of the cleaning cloths into the warm, sudsy water. Wringing out the excess moisture, she proceeded to slap the wet rag down on his desk and began moving her wrist in gentle, circular motions. She didn't intend to miss an inch of potentially infected surface. Influenza was serious business, after all.

She was so intent on cleaning, so focused was she, that when a sudden ringing noise broke the silence, she felt her heart jump a little in her chest. She glanced incredulously to the colonel's private line. Who could be calling him?

She contemplated a moment on just letting it ring. She really wasn't supposed to answer Mustang's phone…

_BRRRRIIIIINNNGGG_!

Then again, if it was something important she really ought to answer. She lifted the phone to her ear, listening carefully for a clue as to who the mystery caller could possibly be.

"Roy!" an all too cheerful voice exclaimed.

She blinked. There was only one person she knew who could put so much enthusiasm into a single word…

Clearly undeterred by the lack of reply, the voice continued on, "Guess what? You won't believe it! My daughter Elicia was pretending to be a little bunny rabbit this morning! She was hopping around and asking for carrots… I took a picture!"

Riza sighed. Yes, it was _him_ alright…

"Elicia's just so cute I can't stand it!" the voice gushed, "Oh and Gracia-"

"Lieutenant colonel Hughes." Riza cut him off abruptly.

There was a pause on the other end of the line as Maes Hughes was clearly caught off guard, "Wait. Lieutenant Hawkeye? Where's Roy?" he asked confusedly. "Or am I _interrupting_ something?" he added teasingly.

Riza frowned, resisting the urge to shout into the phone at his misplaced remark, "I'm sure I don't know what you're insinuating, Lieutenant colonel." She said evenly. She heaved a sigh and continued in a softer tone, "Colonel Mustang is currently resting in the infirmary, sir. He seems to have come down with influenza."

"…How bad is it?" Hughes' tone had taken on a bit more of a serious quality.

"To put it simply, he was running a fever of thirty-nine and a half degrees Celsius and seemed really out of sorts." Hawkeye proceeded to give him a brief rundown of the colonel's symptoms, "…By the time we got him down to the infirmary, he barely seemed capable of following a conversation." She stated flatly.

"Poor Roy." The lieutenant colonel sympathized, "You'll have to make sure he gets plenty of rest, lieutenant."

"Well, I intend to enforce the idea if necessary." Riza said mildly, hand tracing over her gun holster, "Though he seems to have 'surrendered' presently… The doctor says he should be fine."

She could almost see the lieutenant colonel smiling on the other side, "Well that's good to hear at least." Hughes said, "How many days is he taking off?"

"Most probably a week, if not more." Riza replied thoughtfully, "Influenza spreads easily and is nothing to sneeze at… I'm sure the higher ups will understand."

"… 'Nothing to sneeze at', huh? That's one dark sense of humor you've got there, lieutenant." Hughes laughed lightly.

"Pardon?" Hawkeye returned calmly.

"Nothing, lieutenant." Hughes was definitely grinning now; she was sure, "Listen. Tell Roy I hope he gets better soon, alright?"

"I'll be sure to let him know, sir." Riza returned.

"Alright. I'll let you get back to your work now." Hughes said.

"Farewell, sir." Riza replied in closing, hanging up the private line.

She got the nagging feeling that Hughes would somehow try to pass his well wishes onto Roy personally, but that wasn't any of her business. She resumed wiping down the desk and anything else she deemed worthy of meeting with the soap and water.

As she worked, the first lieutenant found herself worrying about Roy's well-being. After she drove him home that night, he'd essentially be on his own. She frowned. Would he even be capable of taking proper care of himself? A small part of her was convinced that after a few hours rest, the colonel would be trying to force his way back into work… insisting he was fine… On the other hand, the majority of her thoughts seemed to concur that he was too sick to even attempt something of that nature.

So that begged the question: what would he do? Would he make sure he ate and kept up his fluids or would he starve himself? She could all too easily picture her commander slumped in a chair… deciding he wasn't hungry and that getting up to get anything wasn't worth the effort. Her forehead creased.

"_Maybe someone ought to take care of him… if even for a couple days…_" Riza thought, "_Maybe even just one day… to make sure he's alright._"

She contemplated for a moment calling lieutenant colonel Hughes back. She knew he'd be all too eager to catch a train down to East city to help a friend in need. Hawkeye quickly ruled that possibility out, however. Hughes had a wife and daughter to care for and he certainly didn't need to risk bringing the influenza virus into their home.

As far as she knew, she and second lieutenant Havoc were the only members of team Mustang to have come in direct contact with the colonel that day. Therefore, there wasn't much point in asking Furey, Falman, or Breda to expose themselves to the virus. Even the doctor had made sure to point out that Mustang really ought to keep a distance from most people until he was well.

So that left her and second lieutenant Havoc. She frowned. Dancing on the line that was the anti-fraternizing policy was never an easy task. Certainly gossip would circulate if either one of them took off more than a couple days coinciding with the colonel's absence. Especially if _she_ were to take time off. She still remembered the strict warnings as if they were yesterday.

"_You are to guard him and see to it that he completes his duties. At no point does this include involving yourself in his personal life…_" she reminded herself wordlessly.

Still, a _sick_ Mustang was bound to be next to defenseless. If Scar should try to show up and eliminate the weakened alchemist, he was bound to need some protection. What's more, Riza decided, he was nowhere near capable of completing his duties. Not right now, at least.

She weighed her options. Even if she or the second lieutenant were able to find a way to get by with taking care of the colonel, she wondered if he would accept the help. Sure, he'd allowed them to support him down the hallway, but there was a big difference between that and providing him with basic needs like food and water. What if his pride wouldn't allow him to be, for lack of a better term, coddled? Furthermore, Hawkeye wasn't even sure just how far the alibi of protecting a sick man would get her.

By the time she'd finished wiping things down, the office seemed to have grown darker. It had been about an hour since Hughes's call. She supposed her own whirring thoughts were to blame. She dropped the used cleaning rags into the bucket and headed back out of the office. She really ought to bring the colonel those sick leave forms before it got much later, she decided.

After dumping out the soapy water in the restroom and returning the supplies to the janitor's closet, Riza made her way back the way she'd come. She retrieved the forms from the office table, pocketing a pen as an afterthought.

"Taking those to the colonel?" Havoc surmised as she passed him by.

"That's right." She nodded calmly.

"Tell him to get well soon, okay?" Breda interjected.

"Of course, lieutenant Breda." Hawkeye nodded and continued on her way down the hall. She faintly wondered if her superior had managed to fall asleep.

As she neared the infirmary, the sound of something shattering caught her ear. Was that _glass_? She picked up her pace a bit, pausing when she heard voices coming from inside the room in which Roy had been resting.

"P-Please, sir," a nurse was stammering, "D-Don't worry about it."

"Doh…it's by fauld." The flame alchemist's voice came dully followed by a shiver.

Riza stepped into the doorway.

Shards of glass and water were splayed out across the floor beside the cot. She could only conclude that the shards had once resembled a cup and that, full of water, that cup had been inadvertently dropped by one Roy Mustang.

"I'll go get a broom." The nurse said quietly, brushing by Riza on her way out of the room.

The lieutenant chose to approach the other side of the cot as Roy glanced up at her slowly. She had to admit, he looked just as miserable as he had a little over an hour ago.

"Lieutenant Breda asks you to get better soon, sir." She stated as a form of greeting.

His onyx eyes blinked slowly as he processed that, "…Does he?"

"Yes sir." Hawkeye stated, "As does lieutenant colonel Hughes."

His eyes widened slightly in confusion, "L-Lieutedadt..." his breathing hitched before he could continue.

"Hehhh…Hhpt'CHUuu!" Roy turned his head as he lurched forward, sneezing into his arm.

"He called your private line, sir." Riza clarified, "I simply told him what I knew."

Roy sniffled and allowed himself a small sigh, "I see."

The nurse returned with a broom and dustpan and began sweeping up the mess silently, not wishing to interrupt the conversation.

"More importantly, sir," Riza continued, "I've brought those forms for you to fill out."

**Author's Note:**

**Hello again, dear readers! I'll bet you weren't expecting an update out of me just yet, were you? *grins* What can I say? I'm really enjoying writing this fic. Though I really ought to stockpile chapters at some point… Anyway… HUGHES! Yes, I just had to put him in this. And this may not be his only appearance either! (spoilers?)**

**Believe it or not, Roy initially wasn't going to appear in this chapter, but he managed to worm his way in somehow…**

**I get the feeling this chapter is particularly boring in comparison to the others so far, but maybe that's just me… Hopefully Hughes makes up for it! *nervous laugh***

**Reviews make me happy and inspire me! See you in chapter 6!**


	6. Curse the Fever

Roy blinked his eyes open slowly, groaning as he was dragged away from the oblivion of sleep. He felt like death warmed over. He contemplated returning to the dark void of dreamless slumber, but an acute feeling that something wasn't as it should be pulled him further into wakefulness.

He glanced lazily at his surroundings, trying to figure out what felt so out of place. White hospital walls met his vision… There was a long, plastic curtain that served as a partition to his left… and he was on… a stretcher?

Roy frowned, "_Wait…I fell asleep in the infirmary back at HQ…How did I wind up here?_"

"Ah, good. You're finally awake." He heard a voice coming from somewhere in the room. It sounded familiar, but he was having trouble placing it at the moment.

Roy sat up slowly, rubbing his temples as he tried to assess what had happened, "...How long was I out?" he asked weakly.

"You were closing in on twenty- seven hours, if you must know." The voice responded smugly.

Roy blinked rapidly. That _voice_. It sounded too young to be a doctor, "Who are you?" he asked. He squinted against the light as he lowered his hands from his head.

"You don't recognize me?" the voice sounded surprised, "What? Did a little rain give you _brain_ damage? Idiot."

Realization dawned on him all at once as a golden haired teen swam into his line of vision, "Fullmetal?" he asked in disbelief.

The boy seemed to have abandoned his traditional garb and was instead wearing a white lab coat that was much too large for him.

"Glad to see you remember me after all." The kid replied snarkily, rolling up his sleeves.

"You really are a Fullmetal shrimp." Roy murmured tonelessly, rubbing his temples.

"Hey! Who you calling so small that if someone started to cry he'd drown in a single teardrop because it would be like a flood sweeping over him?!" Edward snapped.

The colonel groaned, "Please go away… Fullmetal. I don't feel like dealing with you right now…" he buried his face in his hands.

Ed smirked at this, "Leave? Not on your life! We have to prepare you for surgery after all!"

Roy dropped his hands instantly, eyes widened, "Surgery?!" he repeated, shocked.

"Yeah, that's right. You need heart surgery right away." Ed elaborated. His mouth twisted into a grin as he added, "And I'm going to be your surgeon… so let's try and get along, hm?"

All at once his adrenaline kicked in and Roy sprung off the stretcher and onto his feet. "What do you think you're trying to pull, Fullmetal?!" he roared.

"Aw calm down, colonel!" the kid grinned, "You're going to aggravate your condition." He clapped his hands and transmuted a blade extending from his automail arm.

Roy blanched. He didn't have his gloves with him and as such had little means of fending off the young state alchemist. He fled from the room, running as fast as his weary limbs would carry him.

"_This has to be some sort of prank… and if it isn't…_" Roy thought as he ran, pausing in front of a nurse's station, "_Who authorized this?_"

A nurse on duty glanced him over in surprise, "Oh dear. You look awful, sir. You really ought to lie down…"

"W-who…" he panted, catching his breath, "Who…authorized… Fullmetal…surgeon…?"

"Uh..." the nurse fidgeted, "Well, Mr. Mustang…Hmmm…It was probably the doctor that's been monitoring your case… Let me look it up for you." She began sifting through folders.

Roy leaned on the counter as he waited, "Hurry if you can… that kid's got a blade." He murmured.

"Ah! Here we are!" she beamed momentarily, "It's Doctor-"

"Is there a problem, Nurse Havoc?" a deep, gravelly voice interrupted her from somewhere behind him.

"_Havoc? I wonder… does Jean have a sister he never talks about?…_" Roy wondered to himself.

"No. Colonel Mustang here just had some concerns about the surgery. Perhaps you could set his mind at ease, Dr. Scar?"

Roy felt bile rising in his throat as he slowly looked over his shoulder. Terror turned his innards to ice as he stared up into the hateful red eyes of one vengeful Ishvalan.

"Is there a problem?" the scarred man asked evenly.

"Y-you? My doctor?!" Roy spouted, dumbfounded, "I… I have to be dreaming! That's the only explanation!"

Scar frowned, flexing his well toned arm muscles, "I see… you've gotten far too excited. You're putting yourself at risk." He reached his arm out as it glowed with alchemic power.

The flame alchemist barely leaped out of the way, "Just what are you doing here?" he growled.

"You need to calm down!" the Ishvalan growled, "This sedative should put you out!"

"_Darn. Hawkeye, where are you when I need you?_" Roy thought bitterly, "That's no sedative!" he growled, dodging another assault. Sadly, his legs chose that exact moment to give out and he collapsed to the floor.

Scar's palm met his face in a sudden rushing force, "Rawwwr! Your face a'splode!"

Roy's mind turned inward on itself and all went dark.

A small part of him was well aware of the sheer insanity and impossibility of what he'd just endured. However, his fevered mind seemed to justify the experience as reality, causing a spiral of confusion.

It was in this state of fever induced confusion that he awoke, shivering slightly at the feel of the air around him. For a moment, he was almost afraid to open his eyes. What if all that _had_ happened? What if he really _was_ about to go into surgery with Fullmetal operating on him? A sudden spark of awareness alerted him to just how irrational that line of thought was.

Roy blinked open his eyes sluggishly, taking in his surroundings. He was pleased to see the medicine cabinets and desk lining the wall… What's more he was lying on a cot. He'd definitely been in the infirmary the whole time.

He sighed in relief and brought a hand to his temples, "Dard fever." He murmured aloud.

He made no motion to sit up, however. He still felt so tired, and the fever dream had been anything but restful.

He let loose a series of coughs, groaning as they scraped at his already irritated throat.

"_There was one thing the dream got right._" Roy decided miserably, "_I really do feel like hell._"

"Oh! Good. You're awake, sir." A feminine voice remarked from somewhere near the doorway.

The flame alchemist dragged himself into a sitting position cautiously as he looked her over. "_Well. At least it's not Fullmetal._" He blinked and rubbed his temples; he really had to try and forget that bizarre dream.

The nurse approached his bedside with some pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "You were asleep when I first came in, so I decided not to wake you… I hope you don't mind, sir." She said softly, "I've brought the medicine now though."

"Mm…thadk you." He murmured tonelessly. Even if he was out of it, it appeared his manners were intact enough for him to realize he owed the nurse such a reply. He placed the pills at the back of his tongue and shakily accepted the glass of water.

The nurse watched him as he downed the pills.

Roy clamped his eyes shut in discomfort as a tearing feeling ripped through his throat with the swallowing motion. He made to bring the glass of water back to his lips to try and douse the burning in another wave of cool liquid.

Sadly, the glass slipped from his uncoordinated hands. Too late his fingers grasped at empty air as the glass met the unforgiving floor. An audible crash resounded from the infirmary and Roy stared at the mess for a long moment. It was almost as if he didn't believe it had happened.

"…I'b sorry." He murmured, feeling a chill creeping up his spine.

"P-Please, sir," the nurse stammered, clearly still somewhat surprised, "D-Don't worry about it."

"Doh…it's by fauld." Roy sighed wearily, shivering against his will.

He slowly became aware of another figure standing in the doorway… Lieutenant Hawkeye, he realized.

The nurse murmured something about getting a broom and before he knew it the first lieutenant was at his bed side.

She mentioned that second lieutenant Breda hoped he got well… and that Hughes did as well. A sneeze interrupted him before he could question how the lieutenant colonel had found out, but it wasn't as though it mattered. As usual, Riza was capable of explaining things quickly and efficiently. Roy was in the middle of contemplating how much he appreciated this ability of hers when a particular sentence pierced through his thoughts loud and clear.

"More importantly, sir," Riza was saying, "I've brought those forms for you to fill out."

Truth be told, he'd almost forgotten about the forms… but he wasn't about to admit it. "Ah… thadk you, lieutedadt." He muttered instead.

She held the forms down to him, producing a pen from her pocket, "I recommend you take leave for the following week at least, sir. Shall I list the dates for you?"

He stared blearily at the papers. The black ink seemed fuzzy and out of focus… not crisp and precise like it ought to be. Vision slightly inhibited by fever, he squinted in an effort to try and make heads or tails of the forms. The page's contents seemed to double briefly before merging back into a single image.

"…Dard fever." He repeated his earlier sentiment, feeling a mix of frustration and defeat sinking into his tired mind.

"Sir?" Riza questioned.

An annoying tingling once more invaded his nostrils and he let the papers drop into his lap along with Hawkeye's pen, "Heh...HUPT'chuu! Hukt'CHUUU! Hhhpt'CHUU!"

He sniffled exhaustedly as the fit passed.

"Sir…about the forms…" Hawkeye began with uncharacteristic tenderness leaking into her tone.

"Jusd… tell be where to sigd, lieutedadt." Roy murmured, closing his watering eyes for an agonizing moment before looking back at her. "I… I ca'd really bake sedse of theb righd now…So I'b trusting your judgment." He admitted.

Riza seemed taken aback for a brief moment, before nodding. Her expression once more a calm mask, "Yes, sir. Just sign here." She pointed to a line on one of the pages, "Then here." She indicated a line on the other.

Roy uncapped the pen and slowly scrawled his signature across the lines his lieutenant had pointed out.

Hawkeye wasted little time in retrieving the forms from the colonel and set them on the edge of the room's desk as she began filling out the other necessary information.

"Thadk you…lieutedadt." Roy's voice was weary and worn, but there was no mistaking the true gratitude behind those words.

"You're welcome, sir." She replied calmly as she worked.

The nurse had cleaned up the mess and left again, leaving only the two of them in the room.

Roy sighed, leaning back against the pillow once more. He felt awful, but knowing his lieutenant was still calm and collected brought a relief to him he couldn't explain. It was a sense of knowing she had everything taken care of… He could afford to rest a bit, knowing she had his back… Just another reason his fever-addled mind was all too eager to accept as justification to lie back and shut his eyes…

"…submitted. My shift ends in two hours, sir. I'll return then." He zoned back in on Hawkeye's words, blinking lethargically as he tried to figure out what the first part could have been.

Hawkeye frowned at his confused expression, "Did you hear me, sir?" she asked.

"…Missed the first pard." He admitted without much thought.

"Right. I said that I'll take these forms to be submitted." She told him easily. She paused and tacked on, "Will you be needing anything before I go, sir?"

"…Doh." He coughed into his hand, "Thadk you, lieutedadt."

She saluted him as she had earlier, "You're welcome, sir. I'll be back in two hours." She reminded him.

"Righd…See you thed." Roy murmured.

Riza nodded to him and exited the infirmary once more.

Roy watched her disappear and sighed as he leaned back again. He could hardly wait for the two hours to pass. He was really starting to long for his own bed. Still, in his current state he imagined he could sleep just about anywhere. His eyelids fluttered as he once more faded out of conscious thought, a small part of his mind begging his fever to cease in its failed attempts at story telling.

**Author's Note:**

**And here lies chapter six. Yes, I know, I'm taking forever to get poor Roy into the comfort of his own home. On top of that, I gave the colonel absurd fever dreams! *laughs***

**Anyway, this particular fever dream sequence is loosely based off an amusing conversation with my fiancé. After I'd read him the first chapter, he promptly requested Roy hallucinate/ fever dream again. So we began discussing what that would entail. It was his idea to have Ed as a nurse/ surgeon and Scar as a doctor; I just firmed up and expanded that idea a bit. I also added a reference to the FullMetal Alchemist: Brotherhood bloopers… just because. =)**

**So I'd like to not only dedicate this chapter to my amazing fiancé, but my wonderful fanfic readers! I stayed up until four in the morning typing this so it would be ready for today. Here's to the beginning of a new year, guys!**

**As always, reviews make me happy and I'll see you in chapter 7!**


	7. Going Home

Two hours came and went swiftly. Riza now made her way back to the infirmary once more. She'd previously taken the liberty of bagging up both her uniform and the colonel's, and moving them to the car. She didn't want to forget them, nor did she want her hands to be full if the colonel needed support.

He wasn't alert or even awake when she entered the room this time. Not by any standard. The colonel was lying on his side, huddled into himself in what Riza could only assume was a subconscious effort for warmth.

As she moved closer, Riza drank in his haggard appearance in greater detail. His brow was furrowed and his mouth hung half-way open, conveying his discomfort clearly even from the clutches of fevered sleep. Still, he seemed no more alert of his surroundings, despite the fact she was fairly hovering over him at the moment. Roy Mustang was dead to the world.

Seeing him so deeply asleep, the lieutenant found herself hesitating for a brief second. Should she really disrupt him when he was finally getting some of the rest he needed? She quickly overcame that seed of doubt, however. Reminding herself that waking him would allow him to be able to rest in his own bed, in his own home… This, she was sure, would be infinitely more comfortable than a small infirmary cot.

"Colonel Mustang." Riza spoke up at last.

Roy didn't so much as stir. His only movement was the steady rise and fall of his sides and chest; his breath coming in low, congested snores.

"Colonel. It's time to go home." She spoke again. This time, she reached a hand down to gently shake his shoulder.

His eyebrows knit further and his nose twitched with a sniffle, but his eyes still didn't open.

Riza frowned slightly, but continued to pester him for a good five minutes.

Her stubbornness paid off as Roy groggily came to. "Nngh…" he groaned pitifully as he slowly lifted his head.

Licking his dried lips, Roy blinked sluggishly at the lieutenant, "W-Whad is id, Lieutedadt?" he murmured.

"My shift is over, sir." Hawkeye explained calmly, "Shall I drive you to your apartment now?" Though they both knew this really wasn't a question, Riza attempted to preserve some small shred of the colonel's dignity.

"Heh…Hehhh…Hhhpt'CHUU! Hhpt'CHUuu!" a pair sneezes erupted from the colonel with little warning. He sighed and rubbed at his chafed nose, "Please."

Riza watched him carefully as he pushed himself up, easing his legs over the side of the cot. She wasn't sure if his arms were trembling purely from illness or exhaustion. Perhaps it was a mix of the two, she decided.

Roy's expression became a deepened frown as he stared at the floor. "_I can't get up too quickly…_" he reminded himself, "_Or this time… I really might pass out._" It was a grudging self-admission, but one he couldn't ignore. 

The lieutenant noticed all too easily the worried look that marred her commander's features. "Would you like me to give you a hand, sir?" she asked calmly.

"_No. That won't be necessary, lieutenant._" The words were automatically forming on his lips, but caught in his throat before they could be uttered. To say those words would be such an enormous lie that even half delirious with fever, he knew that he shouldn't go there. Even if he could stand under his own power, Roy realized, he felt too drained to make it very far. The fact was, he needed Hawkeye's help right now…just as much as he'd needed Havoc's to get here in the first place.

As if to confirm this revelation, a shiver wracked through him that seemed to come from his core. "I-If….If you dod't mind… lieutedadt." The flame alchemist replied wearily.

Offering him a brief, sympathetic smile, Riza held her hand out to him. His clammy palm met her firm, yet surprisingly gentle, grasp. She hoisted the ailing man to his feet and braced him against her side as she slowly guided him out of the infirmary.

Roy did his best to support as much of his own weight as he possibly could, not wanting to burden his lieutenant any more than he had to. After all, she was already being too kind to him.

It wasn't long before Riza had helped him into the back seat of the car and settled herself into the driver's seat.

Roy rested his heated brow against the cool glass of the car window, noticing dimly as he glanced out that it had stopped raining. "_Not a moment too soon._" He thought absently as the car rolled forward.

Hawkeye peered over her shoulder briefly at her C.O. He seemed to have slipped back into a daze. To be fair, she wasn't sure if she'd really expected anything else.

The hoarse sound of coughing filled the back seat as she turned her attention back to the road. It was a less than pleasant sound, but she feigned indifference for his sake. Apart from the sporadic interference of Roy's symptoms, the drive to his apartment was a silent one. Riza parked the car on the side of the road, a few meters from the colonel's apartment.

She glanced back at her passenger, "We're here, sir." She stated.

Roy blinked slowly, lifting his head from its impromptu pillow. The window had left his cheek feeling slightly numb with cold, but it was strangely welcome when compared with the heat pulsating through his temples. "Hm…This is by apardmedt alrighd." He qualified with a glance.

Riza got out of the vehicle, walking around to the passenger's side to open the rear door for her superior.

Roy stood carefully, wobbling slightly despite his best efforts. "_Almost there…" _His fevered mind thought blissfully, "_…I really want to lie down…_"

Riza steadied the colonel, guiding him up to his own apartment to be sure he wouldn't fall over.

It was then that Mustang realized he had to _unlock_ his apartment. Eyes widening briefly, his hands plunged into his pockets as he fumbled around for his keys. He cursed silently at his sudden inability to find them…what had he done with them?

"Colonel. Let me." Hawkeye spoke firmly.

He glanced at her blearily, confusion creasing his brow. "Whad… how?"

"You gave me your spare, sir. For safekeeping." Came her swift reply.

He nodded slowly, "Alrighd…bud I still dod't know where by keys are." He sighed in defeat.

"Probably in your uniform pants, sir." Riza told him calmly, "You might have forgotten to remove them…Seeing as you did almost lose consciousness after changing, sir."

Her explanation seemed to satisfy him as he didn't say anything further on the matter.

She wasted little time in retrieving the spare key from her own pocket. Then, placing the key in the lock and she gave it a practiced turn.

The door unlocked with a satisfying '_click_' and the two stepped inside.

A small wooden shelf sat adjacent to the doorway upon which, Riza noted, was a rather plain looking lamp. She promptly turned it on, bringing light to the previously darkened apartment.

Riza surveyed what she could see at a glance. The apartment was a standard single floor building. From the entryway, she could see clear to the living room at the other end of the hall. She might as well learn the layout while she was here, just in case she did need to assist the colonel beyond that night.

It appeared as though Roy seemed to get the gist of her thoughts as he mumbled, "Kidchen's off the lividg roob…bathroob is to your left…by roob is od the righd."

Riza blinked and glanced back at him. With one look, she could easily conclude why he was being so helpful. The look in his ebony eyes said that he sorely needed to lie down. That meant avoiding as many questions as possible that could get between him and sleep. It made her feel just a bit uneasy that he was so worn down.

"Heh…HUPT'chuu!" Roy sneezed into his sleeve, pitching forward slightly. "Ugh…Jusd dod't bind the bess…lieutedadt." He murmured halfheartedly as he recovered.

The warning puzzled Hawkeye slightly, but she decided to reserve her judgment for when she saw the rest his living quarters.

His mention of disarray, it turned out, was not without its justification. His bedroom most certainly looked lived in. A white dress shirt that ought to be on a hanger was tossed precariously on the floor. His bed sheets were rumpled and flowing half-way off the bed. Not to mention, his closet door was wide open, littering the floor around it with some of its contents.

Ordinarily, Hawkeye would have criticized the sloppy sight, but she had a feeling the mess was fairly recent. If her instincts were correct, the disorder was likely a bi-product of a long morning. It was all too simple to picture the colonel waking up late, feeling unwell, and having a morning that moved from bad to worse. He'd probably left it all behind in a frantic rush to get to the eastern command building on time.

"Why don't you change into some pajamas and get settled, sir." Riza suggested calmly, as if the mess wasn't even there.

Roy looked at her strangely, "Nod id frodt of you, lieutedadt…"

"Of course not, sir." Riza stiffened, "I thought I might prepare you some dinner. You'll need to keep up your strength if you're to return to work any time soon."

A trace of a smirk graced his features, "I appreciade the offer, lieutedadt… bud I'b nod all that hudgry."

"You should still try to eat something, sir." Hawkeye countered.

Mustang heaved a sigh; he didn't have the energy to stand around arguing with her. "Fide." He conceded.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth for a fraction of a second, "I'll be in the kitchen, sir." She said before closing the door behind her and disappearing down the hall.

Roy sighed deeply as she walked away, causing his lungs to rebel as he crumbled into coughing. "_Darn it_."

He regained his breath slowly; setting about getting changed for the third time that day. The first time had been a maddening blur as he'd rushed to get ready that morning, the second had been a half-delirious effort that had nearly led to him passing out… Needless to say, he wasn't really looking forward to round three.

A part of him was disgusted by how uncoordinated and inept he'd become, whilst the rest of him was too far gone to care. He managed to stumble into his pajamas, but elected to leave the fatigues on the floor for the time being in hopes of not repeating the intense dizzy spell that he'd experienced the last time. That was the last thing he desired at this point.

Instead, Roy made a half-baked effort at fixing his blankets and sheets before crawling into bed and huddling beneath them. A subconscious shiver prompted him to curl further into the blankets… He really did feel pathetic right now. His body ached, his throat was sore, he was congested, feverish, and above all- tired. Eyelids feeling as if they were lined with lead, the colonel let them slip shut.

He wasn't sure how long he'd laid there. He wasn't even sure if he'd fallen asleep or merely drifted into a fevered state of half-consciousness. He willed his eyes to focus as he surveyed the wooden floor from the bed on which he laid. Something seemed oddly… different. It was if the floor had somehow become… cleaner?

Realization slowly dawned on Mustang and his eyes widened a fraction. Hawkeye must have come in and picked up after him. That seemed to be the only plausible solution. He pushed himself into a shaky sitting position.

"_Well. She doesn't seem to be here now… Maybe she went home._" Roy thought to himself silently.

The colonel didn't get the chance to consider the thought further, however, as an incredibly strong itching invaded his nasal passages, "Heh…Ehhhh…Ehhhhh…Hhpt'CHUU! Hukt'CHUU! Hhpt'CHUUuu! Hhpt'CHUU!" He doubled forward with each blast, sneezing into the blankets.

He groaned and sniffled wetly, wondering why his body felt the need to spend energy that it didn't have on sneezing. In his state of obvious fatigue and dismay, Roy barely heard the click of his door opening as the knob was turned.

"Gesundheit, sir. Incidentally, I've brought your dinner." Riza stood in his doorway, one hand still on the knob while the other carefully balanced a decently sized bowl of something steaming.

Roy regarded her sluggishly, eyes drifting to the bowl she was holding. Despite his lack of appetite, he felt a slight pang of disappointment that this illness had robbed him of his sense of smell. He was sure whatever was in that bowl must smell wonderful.

"Id smells gread, lieutedadt." He found himself murmuring, fever broadcasting his thoughts despite his inability to validate them.

"You're a bad liar, sir." The lieutenant said as she walked over to his bedside. "You and I both know you can't smell a thing right now."

"Well…" he amended slowly, "It seebs like id would."

She held the bowl out to him carefully, waiting until both of his hands were wrapped around the glass before she let go.

Roy lowered his gaze into the bowl. Chunks of chicken were floating around in a mix of broth and noodles as a pleasantly warm steam wafted off from it. He felt his gratitude multiplying instantaneously, "Ahhh…Thadk you, lieutedadt." His words were hardly above a whisper, but not one bit of their meaning was lost on the lieutenant.

Riza produced a spoon from her breast pocket, extending it to him wordlessly.

Roy took the utensil and proceeded to dip it into the soup. Then, hand wobbling slightly, he brought the first spoonful into his waiting mouth. His eyes closed contentedly as he appreciated the warmth and what he could of the flavor.

"You're welcome, sir." Riza said at last.

Roy blinked his eyes open at her words, lowering the spoon back into the soup. "Id's good." He said simply.

"I'm glad you think so, sir." Her delivery was stoic, but genuine.

Roy smiled tiredly and turned his attention back to enjoying the liquid 'Heaven' she'd provided him with.

**Author's Note:**

**So there you have chapter 7! As I said, I really need to stockpile these chapters… *laughs* This one took much longer than the last few. Anyway, I hope Roy and Riza aren't too out of character. I'm really trying to keep their personalities intact. *nervous laugh***

**On another note, I finally let Roy go home. Yaaaay! Now he can be taken care of all proper-like. =) *whispers* I'm still going to make him suffer though.**

**Reviews make me happy and I'll see you in chapter 8!**


	8. Delirium

Two things were very clear to Riza Hawkeye as she watched her superior eat. Judging by the blissful expression that had crossed Mustang's face, he appreciated the soup with every ounce of his being. However, equally transparent was the fact that he was lifting fewer spoonfuls to his mouth. He was instead electing to breathe in the soup's warm fumes, most likely in an effort to try and clear his blocked sinuses. While this would probably help on some small scale, it seemed to indicate that he was getting full.

Riza wasn't all that surprised by this observation. Roy himself had verified that he didn't have much of an appetite. This, she was certain, was likely due to his fever.

"If you're finished, sir, I can take the bowl back to the kitchen." She said at last.

Roy blinked slowly at her, and then glanced back into his half-full bowl of soup. "I'm sorry." He murmured, letting her take the dish from him.

"I didn't expect you to finish it, sir." Hawkeye replied curtly.

Roy offered a wry smile, "I see."

He watched her walk out into the hall, managing to hold back a series of coughs until she'd disappeared from his sight. With a soft groan, he let his head fall back against the pillow.

The soup had left him with an overall pleasant feeling of warmth in his being. It was as if his chills had been temporarily washed away by the steaming glory of it all. This sensation, combined with his palpable fatigue, quickly lulled the colonel into a state of dreamless sleep.

By the time Riza had returned to his doorway, Roy was snoring audibly, completely oblivious to his surroundings. "_It didn't take him long…not that it's that surprising._" She mused to herself. He was pretty sick, after all.

Despite what Roy might have thought, she had heard his coughing several minutes ago. It had reminded her that she needed to check his medicine cabinet. Not only could he probably use some cough syrup, but apart from the medicine that he'd been given in the infirmary, she wasn't sure if Roy had anything that counted as a fever- reducer.

"_Medicine cabinet… I'd wager it's in the bathroom." _Riza thought to herself mildly as she headed off to check. There was no point in waking the colonel just to inquire about something that she could easily discover the answer to herself.

The bathroom was small and simple, but Roy had, at the very least, managed to keep it clean. Riza couldn't help but feel slightly relieved by this discovery.

The medicine cabinet quickly caught her eye and Riza peered inside to assess what there was to work with. She froze.

There was a roll of gauze, a glass bottle with a single pill inside, and a long expired prescription for an ear infection.

While Riza had expected the colonel to be under-stocked, she found the condition of his medicine cabinet to be atrocious. Sure, her superior didn't often fall ill, but she was positive he knew better than to not plan for the possibility. Then again, this was the same man who had dashed out into the rain with all intentions of battling Scar with nothing but his flame alchemy. His ego really could overshadow his better judgment sometimes.

With a sigh, the lieutenant picked up the nearly empty glass bottle to read its label. It was aspirin. She wasn't entirely surprised. The colonel did seem prone to headaches; what with his rank, ambitions… and handling Edward Elric.

Still, he really ought to realize when he was running low; especially when he used it as frequently as he most probably did. Riza shook her head to herself.

There was no getting around it; she'd have to go out and buy medicine for the colonel first thing in the morning. There was absolutely no way he could get by with a single pill of aspirin.

She put the bottle back in its place and shut the medicine cabinet. The lieutenant concluded Roy ought to count himself lucky to have been asleep when she'd decided to inspect his medicinal supply; otherwise she might have been tempted to chastise him.

As she entered the hall, Riza glanced at a wall clock. It was rather late. She supposed she could spend the night, just to assure that the colonel would be alright. However, she wasn't about to take the risk of her motives being misunderstood. She selected a comfy chair in the colonel's living room that she could utilize for a few hours sleep.

With her last minute bedding arrangements made, the lieutenant decided to check in on the colonel before getting some shut-eye. To her relief, the colonel didn't seem as feverish as he had been earlier. She supposed whatever they'd given him in the infirmary was working for the time being. Not to mention, the colonel seemed so deeply asleep that she almost doubted a freight train could wake him.

Convinced he was stable enough to not require constant observation, Riza turned off the lights one by one as she headed back to his living room. She leaned back into the chair's fabric, allowing herself to relax.

The next thing Riza knew, daylight was piercing through her eyelids. She supposed she had been more tired than she'd thought; the last thing she remembered was sitting down. She opened her eyes and stared out the window as the bright sunrise shown in. Certainly it was one of the more pleasant sights to wake up to, she decided.

The lieutenant stretched and smoothed the wrinkles from the fatigues she was still wearing. She'd have to stop by her apartment and change when she got the chance. Making a mental note of this, Riza headed for Roy's room.

His bedroom door was still open from the night before. That seemed to indicate he hadn't budged. "_Or if he did, he went right back to bed."_ Riza mused.

She closed the short distance between her and his bedside.

He didn't seem to be sleeping quite as peacefully as he had been after dinner. Not only did he look uncomfortable, but he seemed to be moaning subconsciously.

He writhed from left to right sharply. It left her wondering if he was having some sort of nightmare.

"Colonel?" Riza pressed her hand to his forehead. She was no expert, but she was fairly certain his fever had risen.

Roy's ebony eyes snapped open, blearily attempting to focus on his adjutant's face. His features formed a puzzled expression as she pulled back, "Biss…Hawkeye?" he croaked weakly.

It had been quite some time since he'd preceded her name with 'Miss', but Riza let it slide. "What is it, sir?"

"Wod't your…father," his nose twitched, "b-be…b-b-bad at you? Heh…Hhpt'CHUUuu!"

Riza felt alarm rising in her chest, but fought it down, "What for, sir?" she asked carefully.

"Hhpt'CHUU! HUPT'chuuu!" Roy sneezed twice more before he was able to speak, "B-Because…Doesd't he always say…" Roy gulped in air, "I bay be his appredtice… bud thad doesd't bead… I have ady bus'dess alode with his daughter."

"My father died several years ago, sir." Riza reminded him, trying to avoid going into an all out panic. His mind clearly wasn't in the present… She really needed to get his fever down.

"Very fuddy, Riza. We both kdow… I jusd med with hib… yesderday." Roy argued tiredly.

"Yes. How could I forget?" Riza murmured solemnly. For the moment, the colonel seemed completely ensnared by his delirium. She decided it was better not to argue with him.

Roy groaned, curling back into the blankets, "You mighd wadt to leave…Biss Hawkeye. I feel awful… I'd hade for you to cadch this…" he murmured, tone drifting.

"I'm afraid I can't leave, _Mister_ Mustang. Not until you've eaten something and had your medicine." Riza said firmly.

"Jusd…wadt to… sleep." He replied feebly, eyelids drooping.

"Then I guess I'll just have to wait here until you're ready to eat, sir." Hawkeye responded coolly.

As her words sunk in, Roy regarded her, "…You're really dot going to led be sleep… are you?" he asked wearily.

"No sir."

He groaned pitifully. "Fide… I'll ead."

Eating proved more of a challenge than it had the night prior, high fever causing him to fumble continuously.

Riza coaxed him on, however. She assured he put down enough food to buffer the aspirin that he was about to take.

Despite being delirious, Roy seemed to have discovered that Riza was trying to help him, as he seemed a bit less disgruntled by the time he was swallowing the pill. He grimaced as the foreign object slid down his throat, scratching mercilessly on its way.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this sick… It was just his luck that this should happen on a day that Berthold Hawkeye had promised to teach him more alchemy… Not to mention, Riza would probably get yelled at over this… He hoped not. She was a quiet, kind girl. She didn't deserve any reproach.

"Get some rest now, Mister Mustang." Riza was saying as she placed a wet cloth on his forehead. She'd taken his dishes from him, "I'll be going…."

She'd be going? Roy supposed that was a wise idea… Maybe Master Hawkeye would only get on _his_ case about this. If the man found out he was sick, maybe he wouldn't be as upset. After all… it was all he could do… to keep his eyes open…

Riza watched her superior doze off before she could finish her explanation. She wondered just how much of it he'd heard. She'd told him that she'd be going to the drug store to pick up some medicine. That was, just as soon as she'd phoned the command center and requested lieutenant Havoc to come watch over him in her absence. She couldn't risk leaving Roy alone while he was so completely delirious.

Jean Havoc had been caught off guard when Lieutenant Hawkeye called him. She'd asked him to meet her in front of the colonel's apartment. Something about him needing extra guard due to increasing rumors of recent Scar attacks in the area. And so he'd showed up fully outfitted, gun at the ready.

He sighed and shook his head, "_Leave it to Hawkeye to wait until I got here to mention the part about babysitting the colonel._" Havoc mused to himself.

Despite his charade of annoyance, the second lieutenant couldn't be all that mad. In fact, he really had to hand it to Hawkeye. She'd provided them both with a logical reason to be away from the command center. Even if the big wigs at Central got wind of their absence, it would come across totally justified.

The only thing that truly bothered him about the whole thing was the fact that he couldn't smoke on the job. It wasn't that he didn't understand why. He knew how sick the colonel was right now, how he'd already been coughing, and that cigarette smoke wouldn't help matters at all. In fact, it would probably make Mustang feel worse. Still, as Havoc sat in a wooden chair he'd pulled up to the colonel's bedside, he couldn't help feeling antsy.

He wouldn't light a cigarette; he'd already promised. However, the subconscious need for a smoke had led him to fiddling with his lighter. The desire hadn't been as strong when he'd initially arrived, but that was largely due to the fact that he'd been busy.

Riza had informed him that Roy had been delirious with his fever, and he didn't doubt it. The colonel had been tossing and turning, murmuring intermittently in his sleep, but it was all incoherent. Havoc had dabbed cold water onto his superior's forehead and neck as he'd muttered about things such as 'master' and 'Ishval.'

It had taken a good half an hour, but it seemed Mustang's fever had gone down some. He had ceased in his writhing and unconscious rambling and seemed to be more peaceful.

It was now, when Havoc had nothing to do but wait, that the desire for a cigarette burned the strongest.

"Darn you, chief. First you steal my girlfriends, and now I can't smoke because of you." Havoc spoke in silent, mock annoyance. He really couldn't be angry when his superior was in such a pitiful state.

He watched in mild amusement as the colonel rolled onto his side, hugging his blankets closer to himself. His commanding officer- a calculating, manipulative, and formidable alchemist- had been reduced to a shivering, child-like lump under a mass of blankets. It just seemed ironic in some form, Havoc supposed, and he could only picture the Fullmetal Alchemist giving Mustang hell for it.

Roy coughed harshly, realizing dimly that he was now awake. Something about the air tasted vaguely of smoke, but he was too tired to be bothered by it. For all he knew, he was still dreaming.

Havoc cocked his head and smirked slightly, "You know, sir, curled up like that, you look like a little kid."

All at once, fever-bright eyes snapped open. "H-Havoc…?!" His sudden outburst agitated his throat further, causing Roy to cough, "Whad the hell?!" He struggled to sit up, trembling from weakness.

"Easy there, chief. Your fever's been pretty high this morning." Havoc said calmly, "Lieutenant Hawkeye said you were completely delirious."

"Ugh…You've got to be kiddi'g be." Roy murmured, nose twitching with a sniffle.

"Nope. She said you were living in the past." Havoc said easily, dropping his lighter back into his pocket, "And based on what you've been muttering in your sleep, I don't doubt her."

Roy shot him his best attempt at a death glare, before his expression crumpled all at once, "Hehh…Ehhh…Huukt'chUU! Hhpt'CHUuu!" He did his best to smother the sneezes into the blankets.

"Anyway, I'll bet you're wondering why I'm here, and more importantly, where lieutenant Hawkeye went." Havoc continued in a good natured tone.

That had Roy's attention.

Havoc smirked, "Lieutenant Hawkeye went to the drug store to get medicine for a certain _sickly_ superior. Because you were so delirious at the time, she asked me to come over while she went on her errand."

Roy was silent as he processed that. He wasn't sure whether he should feel embarrassed or even slightly annoyed to have been effectively 'babysat'. He realized his mind was too tired and fever-addled to even begin to decide.

And so he heaved a sigh, reaching up to rub his temples, "…Thadks for filli'g be id."

"Not a problem, chief." Havoc replied. "But you do owe me one for this."

"Oh?" Roy glanced back at him, blinking slowly.

"I haven't had a good smoke in over half an hour." Havoc lamented.

Roy smirked wanly, knowing his subordinate was simply trying to establish a normal conversation, "By deepest apologies." He replied, tone gravelly.

Hawkeye would probably return within the hour, but Havoc decided to make it his task to keep Roy alert and talking for a little while. The flame alchemist had seemed so frantic in his nightmares; it only seemed right to give him a chance to consciously calm himself.

**Author's Note:**

**And here we have chapter 8. Sorry it took so long, dear readers. It took me a while to figure out how I wanted to lay this chapter out. Believe it or not, I initially had no plans of making Mustang delirious in this chapter. (Then I listened to the wicked muse that perched on my shoulder.) **

**Anyway, I hope this chapter is enjoyable and not too farfetched. I really do picture Mustang as the type of guy to have practically no medicine around the house. (Quite in contrast to how I picture Britain in my Hetalia fics! *laughs*) I'm not sure how many chapters are left to this fic; I actually haven't planned it all out. *nervous laughter* **

**Reviews inspire me and make me happy! See you in chapter 9!**


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